Poster Boy
by REIDFANATIC
Summary: A request from Strauss presents some problems for Reid


Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. No copyright infringement is intended.

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"Okay, wheels up in thirty," Hotch said as everyone stood and headed for the door only to be blocked by Strauss who was just entering the doorway.

"Dr. Reid, I need to speak to you," she said.

"Now ma'am, we're on the way to Wilmington. There's a kidnapped little girl. Eight hours have passed. We're on the clock," Reid responded. "Could it wait until I get back?"

"No, it can't, because we have a deadline." She paused for a moment. "I was going to do this in my office but since there are time constraints, it'll have to be here. The FBI is making up a pamphlet for recruiting seminars, featuring the different areas and what they have to offer to young people wishing to join the FBI. You've been chosen to represent the BAU. I need you to write something about what it's like to work in the BAU…"

"Oh, okay, I could do that." Reid said.

"Good, and when you return, we'll set up a time with the photographers."

"Ph…what?" Reid looked at Strauss stunned, "Uh…ma'am."

"I think you heard me," the section chief replied.

"Ma'am, do you really think that I'm the right person for this? What about Agent Morgan, he's…"

"No," Strauss said adamantly. "Agent Morgan is a fine agent but there are already too many young, black, muscle bound men representing other sections of the bureau."

"Unit Chief Hotchner would be ideal," Reid suggested, "he…"

"No," Strauss said again. "We don't want someone who's a unit chief. We want someone who's an ordinary agent. You fit the bill perfectly. You're well educated. That's an understatement," she added, "and you've been published, so anyone who wants to know what's involved with what the BAU does can read one of your articles."

Reid's eyes perked up. "Agent Rossi's been published."

"No, he's too well known and also he's too old." She glanced in Rossi's direction. "No offense."

"None taken Chief Strauss," Rossi said with a grin.

"What about Agent Prentiss. She'd be a great role model for any women hoping to get into the BAU," Reid suggested one last time.

"No," Strauss said. "Agent Prentiss is an ambassador's daughter, not your typical recruit, and using her would reek of politics. It's been decided it will be you. You're young and, as I said, well educated, published, and you'd probably appeal to…"

"The young females out there looking to get into the BAU," Garcia finished for her with a slight giggle which she quickly dropped, "ma'am."

"Exactly," Chief Strauss replied. She gave Reid her attention once again. "Go to Wilmington. Find that little girl and on the way home you can write your piece on why the BAU is a great place to work. We'll finish the rest when you get back." She raised her hand and her cold grey eyes brooked no argument when Reid opened his mouth to speak. "That's an order, dismissed." With that she turned on one of her black heels and headed back the way she'd come, an astonished team looking after her.

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"That was one of our stranger cases," Emily said as she flopped down in a seat on the jet. "I mean what are the odds that one couple would steal another couple's child twice?"

"The Riley's said they didn't know when they bought Allison from that black market dealer that she was stolen. They thought some teenager had given her up for adoption," Morgan said.

"There's no way of proving what was in their minds six years ago," Rossi said. "But at some point they did find out because they kidnapped Kelly to get the bone marrow they needed to save Allison's life."

"At least now the Hemmings know where both their daughters are," Reid said.

"But the Hemmings are complete strangers to Allison." Emily interjected. "It'll be so hard for her, especially when she's fighting leukemia, to be taken from the parents she loves, the only home she's known, and given to someone else."

"That's all for the legal system to figure out. We've done our jobs," Hotch replied as the plane took them back to Quantico.

Reid pulled a pad of paper from his messenger bag and a pen from his pocket and set it on the table in front of him and stared at it.

"Ah, pre-tee boy," Morgan said flashing his white smile, "working on your piece for the brochure? Better you than me man," Morgan set his ear buds in place.

"Having trouble Reid," Prentiss noted a few minutes later when the genius still had nothing written on his pad.

"I don't know what to say." Reid replied. "I thought it would be easy when Strauss first mentioned it. What do I say, welcome to the wonderful world of serial killers, more blood and gore than you'd want to see in a lifetime, the most depraved individuals, and the chance to get beaten, kidnapped, drugged, shot or stabbed?"

"Why did you join the BAU?" Prentiss asked.

"Not for the pay," Reid replied.

"I'd leave that part out," Hotch and Rossi said as one.

"It reminds me of those little essays we used to have to write in fifth grade, 'what I did on my summer vacation'," Prentiss said. "Remember those?"

"Uh, no, not really," Reid replied.

"Didn't the teachers in Las Vegas make you write those things?" she asked.

"I don't know Emily; I skipped fifth grade."

"Oh yeah," she smiled weakly, "of course you did. I do know what you're saying Reid, when we were working on that case with the Cherness family, my mother asked me if I was enjoying my position in the BAU. I told her that enjoy seemed like the wrong word which implied to her that I didn't like the job I always said I'd wanted. I do like my job but the word enjoy sounded so odd to me. So I can see how hard it would be to write something that would attract someone to the job we do."

Morgan pulled the buds from his ears. "How about luring them with lots of travel on a private jet?"

Hotch spoke from the seats behind them. "Reid, just write what made you want to join the BAU and why, with all we see, you still stay. That's all you need to say."

Yeah, Reid nodded. Hotch was right.

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"Why are you in here?" Hotch asked Prentiss and Morgan as they sat in the conference room, consults stacked up beside them.

"Take a look," Morgan gestured with his head. "The photographers wanted some candid shots of pretty boy at his desk and there was no room for us with their equipment."

Hotch looked down at the flurry of activity in the bullpen and Reid, who looked like he'd rather be staring down an armed serial killer than the camera pointed at him, in the centre of it all. Suddenly the woman who seemed to be running the shoot stopped everything. "We need to change this guy's clothes. This," she flung her right arm out in Reid's direction, "is not the image we're trying to portray."

"What's going on down there?" Rossi asked upon entering the room.

"The woman directing the photo shoot doesn't think Reid's clothes are up to par," Hotch explained.

"I think he looks pretty good today," Prentiss said.

"That's because we're used to him," Morgan replied. "Maybe I should go…"

"No," Rossi admonished, "leave Reid alone."

The team continued to watch Reid and the woman in charge while the photographer paced the bullpen impatiently.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Reid asked Leann Clisby, looking down at his beige wool windowpane plaid vest with blue pinstripes running through it. The same blue pinstripe accented his pink shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which he wore with tan slacks and a brown tie with diagonal beige pinstripes. His chocolate brown cord jacket hung off the back of his chair.

The blond woman, who reminded Reid of Strauss somehow, stared at the young man. His clothes weren't that awful, she supposed, but he looked more like a tenured college professor than a twenty something profiler. Until you got to his feet, that was. They were covered with black and white low top sneakers. She'd have to make sure no shots got his feet. She sighed heavily, "Maybe if you roll down your sleeves and put on your jacket," she suggested.

"He should have worn the purple scarf," Emily whispered to herself.

"What's that Emily," Morgan said.

"Oh…oh nothing, just thinking out loud."

"How exactly do you think a profiler is supposed to dress?" Reid asked as thoughts of how each of his teammates dressed went through his mind. He almost laughed out loud at what this woman would say if she got a load of Garcia. "Our ability to get into unsubs' minds is what's important. Can we just get on with this?"

"Sure," Leann replied when Reid had his jacket on and looked presentable enough for her. She turned to the photographer again. "Lyle…"

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"There it is, Reid said the next morning, "the proof for the BAU from the brochure." He handed the page that had been left in his IN box to Garcia.

"Oh, sweetcheeks, you look so good. The photographer got you just right," Garcia said as they all poured coffee in the break room. "This is good. I like the way you ended it." She began to read aloud.

"_It's a job that will continually amaze you, sometimes terrify you, often disgust you, but always challenge you. If you can give it the time and intensity it demands, the rewards will be vast. Not only will you gain insight into the criminal mind, but, more importantly, insight into yourself. Welcome to the BAU."_

She passed it to Emily, "Reid this is great. You did a wonderful job, and that picture of you is fantastic. Women are going to be flocking to join the BAU," she laughed.

They turned their heads at the sounds of heels approaching to find Strauss in their midst. "I see you've seen the proof for the brochure," she said.

"Yes," Hotch replied, "Dr. Reid did an excellent job."

"He did," she agreed. She paused for a moment. "I've just come from a budget meeting and the money for the brochure has been allocated elsewhere so the project is being scrapped. Thank you for your involvement anyway Dr. Reid." She turned and made a quick getaway.

"Now they tell me," Reid said grabbing his coffee and heading towards the stairs. "It couldn't have been before I had to spend a day with that woman."

"That's too bad," they all murmured before tossing the proof into the wastebasket and heading for the stairs.

Hotch turned back and retrieved the piece of paper, took his coffee and walked up the stairs, stopping by his office before heading to the conference room. He opened his file cabinet and pulled out a file with DR. SPENCER REID on the tab. He slipped the paper inside. Someday it may come in handy.


End file.
